The Nature of Evil
by L. Sith
Summary: Aku soku zan. Kill evil swiftly. But what is evil? And what is the price that Saitoh had to pay to live by the philosophy? [On Hold]
1. Chapter 1

Author: L. Sith (l_o_sith@hotmail.com)  
  
Author's note: My thanks ahead of time for all comments and criticisms  
  
Diclaimer: The usual. Didn't create RK, not doing this for profit.  
  
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Chapter 1:  
  
The azure blue sky and warm morning air hinted at another beautiful summer day. With rising of the sun, the city of Tokyo awakened from slumber and began its morning dance. In the heart of the city, at a busy intersection near the police headquarters, the citizens of Tokyo danced to the rhythm of the city - a rhythm only few could hear.  
  
And at a corner of that crossroads, a man stood, leaning casually against a building. With one leg planted on the ground and the other braced against the wall behind him, he rested, leisurely flipping through the morning paper. Every so often, he would nod his head, seemingly in response to whatever he had just read. The pedestrian traffic flowed around him, treating him like an extension of the architecture.  
  
Above him, the sun steadily climbed towards its apex. Rays of light slowly inched past his black shoes, crept up his dark blue trousers, and moved towards his navy colored jacket.   
  
The man continued to read.  
  
Around him, the crowd swelled and the tempo in the street rose to a frenzied pitch.   
  
The man gave the press of bodies around him an indifferent glance.  
  
In due course, four policemen sauntered past him. The man casually stashed away his newspaper, and with a lazy sigh, pushed himself off the wall. Embraced by the general flow of traffic, the man's medium frame melted into the crowd. But as he closed-in on his targets, transformations gradually took place. The man's back slowly unbent and his gait lengthened. With his head held high, and a slight swagger added to his walk, he attached himself to the end of the police squad. Then out of nowhere, he produced a dark blue cap, which he nonchalantly placed atop his short black hair. And for the final touch, he molded his expression to match his targets'.  
  
He became a cop.  
  
Casually, the man followed the group into the police headquarters - the two officers guarding the entrance barely glanced at him. Once inside, he strode towards the documents room. He opened its door, marched inside, and closed the door behind him.  
  
No one noticed him, much less questioned his presence.   
  
Child's play.   
  
After waiting briefly for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the man moved deeper into the room. The place reeked of cigarette smoke. And despite the dim lighting, he could see wasps of white haze floating in the stale air. The man wrinkled his nose in distaste. Around him, everything stood in its expected spot.   
  
The lair of Saitoh Hajime: the definition of predictability.  
  
Killing that bastard lacked real challenge.  
  
But it sure would be fun.  
  
A grin slowly spread across the man's features. And in the darkness of the room, it looked almost feral.  
  
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"Sergeant Umaro and Lieutenant Fujita will now present a report on the recent murders." Senator Tayama started the council meeting with its first order of business.  
  
And like predators on a hunt, the seven senators from the Committee on Ways & Means turned their full attention to Umaro.   
  
Umaro nearly bolted. Three dead senators from this committee in less than a week, and he still had no leads. "Ahh ... first victim was found in the ... aah... pleasure quarters the day after, when someone got caught moving the body. Contaminated crime scene. Second victim killed in a tavern, late at night. No reliable witnesses. And the latest victim, that's Senator Shinya, no one really saw what happened. We are still investigating."  
  
"How about the young lady that Shinya-san was 'conversing' with at the time?" Senator Tayama asked.  
  
Umaro smiled inwardly at Tayama's euphemism. "She ... ahh ... didn't get a good look." Or maybe she just didn't want to help us.   
  
"Senator Shiniya was killed on a public street, in broad daylight! And the murderer is still at large? The Tokyo Police is a WASTE of public money." Senator Iwaya pointed an accusing finger at Umaro.  
  
"We are having a lot of problems tracking down reliable witnesses. We lack the manpower to ..."  
  
Iwaya cut off Umaro's explanation. "What is it that do you lack the manpower to DO exactly?"  
  
Umaro cringed at the onslaught. And out of nervousness, he glanced up at Saitoh. But unlike him, Saitoh just looked bored. Umaro could feel his anger rising. If the guy had everything so under control, why couldn't he just help out a little?  
  
And as if telepathic, Saitoh granted Umaro his wish. "We lack the manpower to visit every whorehouse and drunk in Tokyo, not to mention protecting pretty girls from harassment." Saitoh sneered.  
  
Umaro's heart nearly stopped.   
  
It was going to be a long day, a very long day.  
  
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Saitoh opened the door of the documents room. And for a moment, he paused by the threshold of the darkness, to give time for his eyes to adjust.   
  
It felt good to be back, to be away from gibbering morons. The quietness of the room, along with a hint of a breeze ...  
  
Saitoh's hand raced to his katana  
  
There were no windows in the room.  
  
His senses kicked into overdrive.   
  
At the edge of his awareness, a faint trace of a ki lurked.  
  
Saitoh turned sideways and minimized his profile.  
  
Death, given wings, flew towards him.   
  
Saitoh drew his katana.   
  
But clamors from the hallway made it difficult to detect the slight disturbances in the air. Half deaf and half blind, he had been outmaneuvered by his opponent. Saitoh grinned. He enjoyed a good challenge.  
  
He swept his katana through the air in an arch.  
  
One ... Two ... Three ... Four ...  
  
Steel clashed against steel. And with each chime, one more knife fell short of its target.  
  
... Five ... Six ... Seven ...  
  
The attack felt oddly familiar.  
  
... Eight ...  
  
Saitoh leaned back, just in time to avoid being skewered by a kunai. The knife came close enough to his face to give him a clean shave. But not close enough to kill him. Every throw had been off its mark by a fraction. After such a brilliant setup, the attack came almost as a disappointment. Saitoh listened to the darkness, expecting his attacker to start scrambling for dear life.   
  
Silence reigned.  
  
How peculiar. In a way, this elaborate display reminded him of a predator toying with its prey. Aku soku zan. Kill evil SWIFTLY. Playing stupid little games with one's target was inane.   
  
Time for the idiot to die.  
  
Saitoh raised his katana to eye-level and held it parallel to the ground.   
  
Still, the attack reminded him of Jie's Nine-Point-Attack. But Jie had died ten years ago. Could Jie have ...  
Saitoh immediately quashed that line of thought. Even if it was the Nine-Point-Attack, where was that ninth kunai?   
  
And as Saitoh's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a man standing by the wall toying with a knife. 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: There is much room for improvement and I appreciate anyone who would take the time to point them out. Please nitpick. My thanks, ahead of time, for all comments and criticisms.  
  
I want to thank the following people for their comments: Colleen, Gemini, Ayce Shade, Wacky Dragon, Mara, Saitou Tokio, Sage, and Sachiko-chan.  
  
A short note to Saitou Tokio: Jie is a character that I created. If the name is used by a canon RK character, it is a coincidence (one that I wasn't aware of ^^;)  
  
Disclaimer: RK, and all characters thereof, belong to their perspective owners. This is not for profit.  
  
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Chapter 2:  
  
Deep within the shadows of documents room, the man lurked while casually walking a knife across the back of his left hand. "If I want to kill you, you'd already be dead."   
  
Saitoh snarled.  
  
Smiling sweetly with mock innocence and poisoned charm, the man continued on, "Long time no see, how's the family?"   
  
"Mine or yours?"  
  
The man's jaws tightened, but then relaxed again almost immediately.  
  
But the slip didn't escape Saitoh's notice. Saitoh briefly considered pushing a little harder, but he didn't want to shove his opponent off the edge quite yet. For now, he needed information more than a corpse. "Here to gloat over the assassinations, Jie?"  
  
"I'm not you, I don't murder my way to the top."   
  
Saitoh dropped into his Gatotsu stance. "Let's get it over with."   
  
With blinding swiftness, Jie bounded to the furthest corner of the office. Seven more knives materialized in his hands.  
  
But before either could attack, Sergeant Umaro came running towards the office. "You alright, Lieutenant?" Umaro asked, breathless from the exertion.  
  
Without a word, Saitoh kicked the door behind him, slamming it in Umaro's face.  
  
The room plunged into darkness. Silence stretched until it reached its breaking point, but neither wanted to reveal his hand. So for countless minutes, the two men regarded each other across the abyss, examining possible strengths and weaknesses.  
  
Finally, Saitoh straightened and sheathed his katana. "Ahou. What do you want? Don't tell me this is a declaration of war. It is not your style, you neither have the courage nor the honor."   
  
For a moment, Jie closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they took on a nostalgic light. "You have a week to put your affairs in order ... your family ... they deserves a closure."   
  
And with those final words, Jie brushed past Saitoh and walked out of the document room, out of the police station, and disappeared into the city of Tokyo.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Jie knelt by the table and watched two teenage boys slowly shove their breakfast into their mouths with silver spoons. Their unkempt short hair, incorrectly buttoned shirt, and crumpled pants made them look the role of washed-up gaijin merchants.   
  
"Good morning dad," Timi glanced up from his food bleary-eyed.  
  
It was well past noon.   
  
Naka winced and covered his ear with his hand. "Stop screaming, oniisan."  
  
"I am not screaming, you idiot, it's called a hangover." Timi said.  
  
Naka shook his head and then grabbed onto the table to steady himself. "I am not having a hangover."   
  
Timi laughed at the obvious lie.  
  
"And don't call me an idiot." Naka added.   
  
"Not an idiot? Do you even know which hand is the left hand?"  
  
"The assassin DID use the left-handed Gatotsu."  
  
"It isn't even the Gatotsu, it just look it, stupid."  
  
"Oh yeah? How do you know? You were just as drunk as I was, moron ..."  
  
And the conversation went downhill from there. But strangely, Jie found the noise comforting. Half-listening the quarrel, Jie regarded the two boys, trying to memorize everything about them. "I won't be around forever, you two need to take better care of each other and your little brother ..."  
  
Timi halted in mid-sentence and turned his troubled brown eyes to Jie. "Where you going dad? We are going with you, right?"   
  
Jie paused, then smiled and gave Timi a light pat on the shoulder. But that only caused Timi to furrow his dark brows.  
  
"Yuuhaku -kun?" Ikaji's voice, echoing through the courtyard, saved Jie from further words.   
  
"We are in here, Uncle Ikaji." Naka called out.   
  
Jie stepped out to the veranda and greeted his boss. "Good afternoon, Senator. How did the session go today? Any progress on the Grains bill?"  
  
Ikaji peered around the shoji doors and gave the two boys a worried glance before retreating behind the wooden panels. "We spend most of the session on - " Ikaji lowered his voice to a whisper. " - the murders." Ikaji then looked around surreptitiously, trying to catch the boys.  
  
But they had already fled.   
  
Looking relieved, Ikaji spoke at a normal volume, "Good, I don't want Timi and Naka to overhear. Children shouldn't have to worry about such things."   
  
Jie nodded. It was good to know someone would continue to watch over the children.   
  
"Senator Tayama will call for a vote on the Bill in three days." Jie steered the conversation to congressional matters. "We must swing the Reformists votes before then. They will not support grain purchasing if we have a deficit, so we need to re-juggle the national budget and ..."  
  
**********************************************************************   
  
Misao pulled Kaoru along behind her as she raced down the street. Opulent western mansions lined both sides of the road, too bad so many of them lay hidden behind high walls. Nevertheless, Misao gawked left and right - moonlight added such mystery to everything.   
  
So much to see, so little time.  
  
"Slow down. It's already midnight. Let's go home. Kenshin will be worried." Koaru said.  
  
But Misao sped up instead. She only had sixteen hours left before Aoshi-sama comes and takes her back to Kyoto. "I want to see the entire Tokyo!"   
  
"Mou. What you gonna do next time you come and visit?"  
  
"I'll think of something!" Misao giggled, and continued with her exploration.   
  
Then suddenly, to their left, from within high walls, a scream disrupted the quiet evening.   
  
Misao didn't bother slowing down before propelling herself off the ground. Her hands caught the top of the wall, and she pulled herself up. From her perch, Misao could see a western mansion standing several hundred yards away, with its glass windows smashed open.   
  
"A simple break in." Misao called down to Kaoru. "Let me handle this. Go back first and tell Himura not to worry. I'll catch up."   
  
Karou frowned up at her doubtfully.  
  
Misao flashed a big V-sign. "I can do it. Trust me. Please?"  
  
And after another minute of persuasion, Kaoru finally left for home.  
  
Misao rubbed her hands together in anticipation - nothing like a little action to end her perfect vacation.   
  
She jumped down into the front lawn and headed towards the house.   
  
But something felt wrong.  
  
Terror permeated the air.   
  
And once inside the mansion, stench of death assaulted Misao in waves. Scraps of moonlight from the windows splashed against the wall, spreading nightmarish images around every corner. And the screams - they made the narrow hallways downright claustrophobic. But Misao dared not slow down. As she neared the end of the hallway, she witnessed the fulfillment of her worst fear. The killer had already trapped his last victim against the wall. A young girl, with her doll clutched close to her heart, stood rooted to the spot. Her small form quivered and her tear-filled eyes stared up at the killer in incomprehension.  
  
One more second, oh god please, she needed only one more second.   
  
The assassin raised his katana and swung it at the girl's neck.  
  
The child shrank away, but the wall behind her prevented any escape. And as the blade rushed to meet her throat, the girl cried out absolute terror. The scream ended sharply, but its echoes reverberated throughout the corridor. Even that eventually died. And in the resulting stillness, the flames of anger consumed Misao.   
  
Misao leaped into the air and launched handful of kunais at the killer.  
  
The assassin turned and smirked. Then with a casual wave of his sword, he knocked all the knives out of the air.  
  
He charged towards her.   
  
She tried backing away, to buy enough time to launch a second wave of knives. But the assassin closed in too rapidly.  
  
So Misao aimed a kick at his midsection instead.   
  
The killer sidestepped. And with his residual momentum, he continued onward, slipping effortlessly behind Misao.   
  
He raised his katana.  
  
Misao threw herself forward.   
  
But not fast enough.   
  
Cold steel bit down against her unprotected back. Liquid fire soon followed. Her world exploded into myriads of burning stars.   
  
She fell.   
  
Losing all control over her momentum and direction, she hit the floor face down. The impact sent shock waves through her. Every muscle cried out in agony, but she shoved all the pain aside. She brought her left arm next to her ribcage and pushed. It gave her just enough force to flip herself onto her back.  
  
Too little.   
  
Too late.  
  
She turned around only to see her death angel coming to take her life away.  
  
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* NOTE: The use of the title, "uncle", is purely honorary. There is no blood relation.  
  
Japanese terms:  
Ahou: idiot.  
gaijin : westerner  
Kunai: a throwing knife  
Mou: Oh  
Oniisan: older brother 


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Comments and criticisms are always greatly appreciated. And I will try to post the next chapter by next week.   
  
Diclaimer: The usual. Didn't create RK, not doing this for profit.  
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Chapter 3  
  
The moon bathed the streets of Tokyo in its silver glow as it inched across the nighttime sky. Beneath that heavenly serenity, three teenage boys ambled through the richest neighborhood in Tokyo, heading towards Senator Tayama's residence. The tallest of the trio led the way. The other two followed, with their arms around each other's shoulder, singing at the top of their lungs.   
  
If what came out of their mouths could be considered music.   
  
And for the umpteenth time that night, Yuuhaku Timi berated himself for getting swindled into sneaking out. Behind him, Tayama Mashito stumbled on his own foot, fell flat on his face, and took Yuuhaku Naka down with him. Loud yelps of pain and curses ensued. Timi turned and regarded his inebriated friend and brother for a moment. Mashito seemed too drunk to realize that he had fallen. While Naka, slightly more sober, tried ineffectively to untangle his limbs from Mashito's. Neither appeared capable of standing any time soon. But at least, the fall had stopped the horrible noise they insisted on sharing with the world. Sighing to himself, Timi left the two clowns in the middle of the street and continued towards Tayama's estate alone.   
  
And after trekking through a couple of back roads, Timi ducked behind a row of tall bushes at Tayama's back wall and knocked quietly on the hidden gate.   
  
Minutes went by. Meko didn't answer.   
  
Mashito probably made his little sister cry again. Would that idiot ever realize how lucky he was to have a biological family?   
  
Timi leaned back and looked up at the wall looming over him. He grinded the tip of his leather shoe into the soft earth for better traction. And after flexing his knees a couple of times, he pushed off the ground, completed an aerial back flip, and landed at a spot between the cherry trees.  
  
All he needed to do now was sneak Mashito back into the house and head on home with Naka. Hopefully, father would still be there upon their return.  
  
A girl's high-pitched scream shattered Timi's carefully laid plans.   
  
Meko!   
  
Timi prayed that the child hadn't fallen in the darkness and broke her leg. He scurried past the tree groves and searched along the path towards Meko's room.   
  
Another scream pierced through the quiet night.   
  
Timi raced across the green lawn, and hastily climbed through Meko's half-opened window.   
  
He tumbled head first into its yawning depth.   
  
Around him, Meko's room remained deathly still. Nothing moved, not even the shadows. But through the room's open doorway, he could hear the sounds of metallic clangs. Nervously, Timi took out his only kunai and held the short knife in a throwing position.   
  
He carefully inched towards the door. The sweat from his hand coated the kunai's handle, making the object difficult to hold onto. Timi took several deep breaths and forced himself to relax his grip on the knife. His trusty kunai suddenly felt so alien and cold in his grasp.  
  
Then abruptly, all sounds of fighting stopped.   
  
Timi pressed his back against the doorframe and cautiously peered into the hallway. On the floor, a long-braided girl sprawled. The hitokiri, with his katana held above his head, loomed over her inanimate form. The naked blade gleamed viciously in the surrounding darkness.   
  
Then, to Timi's utter terror, the sword began its downward plunge.  
  
Timi's mind screamed with urgency.   
  
But his body refused to respond. He tried to take a step forward. His feet felt glued to the floor. He struggled to raise his arm, and it inched upward as if it carried the weight of the universe. Then with heart aching slowness, he hurled his kunai forward, and it crawled through the intervening space.   
  
The assassin turned and veered his katana to intercept the knife.  
  
Timi's world stopped. Timi said a silent good-bye to his family.   
  
Then, abruptly, time rushed forward.   
  
The kunai flew past the killer's guard.  
  
And buried itself in the assassin's throat.  
  
With a soft gurgle, the assassin toppled backwards. The body hit the floor with a loud thud and it writhed along the wooden surface. The hitokiri's empty hand reached towards the girl.  
  
Timi panicked. Did he miss? But he had no more weapons. He looked left, looked right, and dashed back into Meko's room. He grabbed the first object he came across, and dragged the large vase into the hallway.  
  
He smashed it against the assassin's head.  
  
All movements ceased immediately. Timi studied the corpse lying at his feet. The body had twisted itself into a bizarre pretzel-like pattern and the face had been distorted beyond all recognition. Under the assault of the vase, the killer's nose had pushed itself into the soft tissue of the brain, and half of the man's upper lip had been torn away. Through the hazy moonlight, the head resembled a grinning skull.  
  
Timi stood, rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off the corpse. Blood gushed from the hole in the man's throat and spilled unto the floor. A crimson lake formed near Timi's feet. The entire scene resembled a ritual sacrifice out of some poorly written story. But strangely, Timi felt nothing, just a blank emptiness. His mind refused to accept what he saw. None of this could be real. Good people did not kill. He was a good person; therefore, he couldn't possibly have murdered that man. None of it was real - he fastened onto the concept as his last refuge.  
  
Detachedly, Timi's brain analyzed the images of his surroundings and sleepwalked him towards the girl. "Meko?" Timi helped her sit up.   
  
And immediately realized his mistake.  
  
"You're not Meko!" Timi accused Misao, sounding full of shock, disappointment, and righteous anger.   
  
He promptly dropped her.  
  
Misao's body hit the floor with a thump. The impact widened the wound across her back, and blood gushed out onto the floor.   
  
Misao almost passed out.   
  
But she hanged onto consciousness and forced herself to get on her feet. She needed to stop the bleeding; she needed a doctor. A little ways down the hall, Misao could see her 'rescuer' kneeling at the side of a pony-tailed girl. He had maneuvered the girl's body into an upright position. However, because the neck had been half-severed, the head hung limply off one side. He held the child's skull gingerly between his hands and carefully placed it on the neck. But as soon as he let go, the head fell off again. The boy seemed surprised by the result and tried it again, and again, and again. And each time, a glimmer of hope sparked in his eyes.  
  
Misao couldn't stand watching it anymore. She limped to where he knelt and placed a hand on his shoulder, "She's dead. There is nothing more you can do."  
  
"No, she's not. She's just playing a trick on me 'cause I forgot her birthday present." Timi's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.   
  
"We've got to go." Misao tried to get Timi to follow her lead.  
  
But Timi ignored her. Instead, he spoke softly to himself. "Meko will want her doll when she wakes up." And with the dead child's head in his right hand, he groped around the floor with his left.   
  
"She's not going to wake up. She's dead!" Misao grabbed Timi's collar and tried to drag him away. But she didn't have the strength. So she watched helplessly as Timi wiped the bloody doll against his shirt and handed it to the corpse.  
  
The child's arms hanged limply at her side.  
  
"Stop this ... there's nothing more you can do for her ... don't ... don't torture yourself like ... this!"   
  
Timi looked up at Misao then turned and stared at the head in his palm.   
  
A brief flash of understanding entered his eyes.  
  
He started shaking.  
  
Misao wrapped her arms around him until the worst of it passed. "We have to get out of here."   
  
Timi nodded numbly. He lowered the girl's body down to the floor and closed her eyes. And as a last act, he placed the doll over her heart and wrapped her arms around it.   
  
Misao half yanked Timi to his feet and stepped forward.   
  
Her world spun out of focus. Her legs caved in.   
  
And darkness descended upon her world.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Kenshin sprinted at his top speed. They had waited for nearly half an hour, still no sign of Misao-dono. Was she carrying the victims to Megumi-dono's or perhaps hauling the perpetrators to the police station?  
  
Either way, it had taken too long, far too long...  
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Next chapter: Would Kenshin reach Misao in time?   
  
Japanese terms:  
Ahou: idiot.  
Kunai: a throwing knife  
-dono: an honorific  
  
Author's Notes: Thanks to all those who read and commented on my fic.  
  
Fujifunmum: You didn't miss anything, Saitoh doesn't know what's up either. He'll have to solve the mystery like everyone else.   
  
Mara: Thank you for your encouragement.   
  
Icerain: This story is not going to involve Tokio. But if there is enough interest, I can write one that does ^^;  
  
Wacky Dragon: Thank you. 


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Haven't gained ownership of RK between chapter 1 and now. All comments and criticisms, on any topic, are always greatly appreciated.  
  
Special thanks to: DiaBlo, Shuro, Sano, and Tariq, for their comments.  
  
To tenshineko: Thank you for the comments, they inspired me to rewrite the previous chapters. And to answer your question, Timi was able to kill the assassin largely because he acted like a victim instead of a threat (unlike Misao). And by the time the assassin realized differently, it was too late. Perhaps more on that later ... Thanks!  
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Chapter 4:  
Saitoh executed a ninety-degree turn, pulled out his katana, and Gatotsu'ed through the front gate without so much as slowing down. Under different circumstances, members of the police squad would have stopped and marveled at the physical impossibility, but unfortunately, more pressing matters weighed on their minds. With well-trained unity, the cops poured through the front entrance and fanned out towards different sections of the house. Many had hoped to rescue survivors but none had expected to catch the assassin.   
However, the newly formed tomb contained no survivors, only a red headed hitokiri.  
  
*************************************************************************  
  
The cop swung his sword horizontally at Kenshin's neck. Kenshin ducked. The blade moved past the top of his head and embedded itself in the wall of the narrow hallway.   
  
"I did NOT kill these people, that I did not. This is all a misunderstanding." Kenshin proclaimed his innocence at the top of his lungs.  
  
Unfortunately, the police weren't interested in proclamations and Kenshin's opponent attacked again.   
  
This time, Kenshin brought up his sheathed sakabatou in defense, and the two weapons clashed in midair.   
  
"You are under arrest!" The cop yelled valiantly at the top of his lungs.  
  
Which only attracted more reinforcements, choking the already overcrowded passageway.   
  
Faced with a mob, Kenshin pushed hard against his opponent. The cop staggered backwards, into the crowd, causing several other policemen to topple over like bowling pins.   
  
But those that remained standing surged forward like a human tidal wave.  
  
"I am innocent!" Kenshin tried explaining again  
  
No one listened.  
  
Then abruptly, all the cops melted away - at the wake of a newcomer.   
  
Saitoh!  
  
The Miburo charged towards him at the speed of lightening. Caught with no room to maneuver, Kenshin extended his sheathed katana before him like a horizontal shield. The tip of Saitoh's katana struck the scabbard and pressed it with so much force, that Kenshin flew backwards until a wall stopped his momentum. However, Saitoh's blade continued forward until it halted a mere inch away from Kenshin's throat. "You are under arrest for obstructing justice."  
  
"I don't have time for this." Kenshin said. "Misao is missing. Help me find her or - "   
  
Saitoh started laughing maliciously. "Or what?"  
  
Keshin thumbed his katana out of its scabbard.  
Fortunately, before the confrontation could escalate, one of Saitoh's subordinates reported in, "Sir, we just found a bloody trail outside."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Jie closed his eyes and concentrated on the tranquility of the courtyard.  
  
Breath in.   
  
His right-hand struck out in a chop.  
  
Breath out.  
  
He shifted his weight to his left foot.  
  
Breath in again.  
  
His body flowed through the motions of his kata with well-practiced ease, but his mind refused to focus on the task at hand. Timi and Naka had yet to return home. Not that passing out at Tayama's was new, but lately Jie worried over them more and more.  
  
Breath out again.  
  
He hadn't meant to worry. He tried not to care. He had only planned to stay until Timi reached adulthood, but Timi was already eighteen and Naka sixteen, and still he lingered.  
  
Breath in.  
  
Knocks came from the front gate.   
  
Jie ignored them. But those quickly intensified into pounding and kicking, and although the woods secluded the houses in the area, noise won no favors with neighbors.   
  
Jie reluctantly ended his kata and went to unbar the front gate.   
  
He had to jump clear of the heavy wooden doors as they flew open. Naka nearly broke the hinges in his haste to enter.  
  
"What are we going to do, dad? The Tayamas are dead!" Naka stumbled into the courtyard and dumped the person he was carrying onto the grass. Tayama Mashito stayed motionless through the entire ordeal.  
  
The smell of alcohol emanating from the pair explained much. "If it's alcohol poisoning ..."  
  
"Not him dad! Where's oniisan?" Naka searched around frantically behind him. "Get in here, Timi!"  
  
Jie quickly clamped a hand over Naka's mouth to stop the racket. But at least, Naka's call had summoned Timi through the entrance.   
  
Plop, plop, Timi's wet footsteps echoed through the courtyard.   
  
Jie could feel his own jaw drop.  
  
Blood covered the boy, and slung across Timi's shoulder was the shape of a body. Jie rushed towards Timi and checked the kid from head to toe. Not until he made sure that none of the blood came from Timi did his heartbeat return to normal.   
  
Jie then shifted his attention to the girl that Timi carried. She had on a dark sleeveless vest and a pair of biker shorts. And around her wrists, she wore a pair of guards designed to prevent combat injuries.   
  
"... Timi goes inside, the assassins kills everyone, he come out with this girl," Naka started rambling, "we try to get a doctor, but no one at the clinic, we can't stop the bleeding, so we come home through the shortcut in the woods, we don't know what to do, can't leave her to die ... "   
  
So, instead, they dragged a corpse, a ninja's corpse, halfway across the city. Jie stared down at the blood pooling at Timi's feet.   
  
"Take Mashito inside and settle him in the guest room. Then go and wash away the bloody trail you two just created." Jie said to Naka.  
  
Naka nodded and hurried to carry out the instructions. But erasing the footprints alone would not stop the pros. He needed more.   
  
"Take off your shoes." Jie gently instructed Timi.  
  
But the boy reacted not at all - those eyes just stared blankly into space. The child clearly needed counseling, but time slipped away with every word. Therapy would have to wait.  
  
"I need your shoes." Jie said in a firmer tone.  
  
And this time, like an automaton, Timi bent his knees, unlaced his leather dress shoes, and kicked them off. But in the process, Timi let go of the body that he carried, and the girl started falling. For a moment, the sash from her outfit fluttered in the wind. Jie reached out and grabbed the fabric. It tore with a small ripping sound.   
  
Perfect. Natural uneven edges around the rip - this piece of fabric could fool even the best trackers. And with some false tracks, he would erase all traces of the night's activities.   
  
Jie stepped over the inert body of the girl and retrieved Timi's shoes.  
  
"Should we call the police?" Naka ran towards Jie with a water bucket in each hand.   
  
"No, the criminals may have an insider. We don't want to set ourselves up as targets." Jie started heading out of the door. "Go and wash away the blood, then come back and clean Timi up. But wait for me to bury the girl."   
  
After a brief pause, Naka called out softly. "Dad? She looks like she's still breathing. Are you sure we should just bury her here?"  
  
No, she would be buried in the woods. Entanglements with ninja groups at this point could be fatal. Jie turned around and almost retorted. But the air of innocence around Naka stopped him. No child should learn to kill. "I'll go and get that doctor the yakuza uses. He will be discrete, make sure you are too."  
  
And Jie quickly left the house after that. There were too many ends to sever.   
  
He had grown soft ... at a time when he could least afford to be.   
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------   
Next chapter: Saitoh vs. Jie, and now with Misao in the mix: who would be the ultimate victim?  
  
Japanese terms:  
  
Hitokiri: assassin  
Kata: a series of martial arts moves  
Oniisan: older brother  
Sakabatou: Reverse Blade 


End file.
